


this is me trying

by Tonks914



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Blind Date, Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love Confessions, M/M, Makeover, Minor Albus/OMC, Rose Weasley - Freeform, Temporarily Unrequited Love, draco malfoy is a Good Dad, so is Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26163742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonks914/pseuds/Tonks914
Summary: Just a few weeks ago, Scorpius's life was on stable footing - perfect grades, infatuation with a brilliant woman, and, most importantly, his best mate, Albus, at his side.  But when Albus kisses him and Scorpius is left with no choice but to break his heart, for the first time since they met, the future of their friendship is in question. Scorpius can't lose him, though.  So even if it involves blundering through awkward conversations and setting up multiple, disastrous blind dates, Scorpius won't stop trying.
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 35
Kudos: 194
Collections: Scorbus Fest 2020





	this is me trying

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thank yous to everyone who has made this such a fun fest this year! Thank you to BigBadBrian for the wonderful prompt that came in right as I was scrapping my third idea. And further to my wonderful beta, Emma, who was the best cheerleader and convinced me not to scrap this. Love you!

Scorpius does his best to ignore the bustling crowd surrounding him on Platform 9 ¾. He focuses his attention instead on the hem of his sleeve, pulling at the loose thread dangling there. He shifts his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels, and then back again. He can feel his father losing patience with his nervous energy and he’s  _ trying  _ to stop. He wishes he could manage even a poor imitation of a somewhat functional person right now, but even that eludes him. For circe’s sake, it’s his seventh year -- he wants to be excited, to let go of this sinking, anxious pit that has plagued him for the last three weeks. But he can’t make himself ignore the feeling that everything has changed during that time -- in the nineteen days since Albus kissed him. 

Even thinking about it now makes his stomach churn -- the feel of Albus’s lips against his, the rambling confession that had clearly been so hard for him, the devastated look in his eyes when Scorpius told him that he simply didn’t feel the same -- it breaks his heart. The worst part is that, in retrospect, he could see how his actions could have been misconstrued as flirtatious. He has never once hesitated to run his hands through Albus’s curls or to pull him in for a tight hug, things that other best mates shy away from. He knows there has always been speculation about the nature of their relationship from fellow Hogwarts students but Scorpius always brushes it off as silly gossip. Of course their relationship looks intimate -- it  _ is  _ intimate -- Albus is his favourite person. It’s just not like  _ that _ .

Well, at least Scorpius didn’t think it was like that. Now though, with Albus’s confession echoing in his ears, he realises that he’s had the whole thing wrong. And what’s worse, he’s been leading Albus on -- he’s been  _ hurting  _ his best-friend unknowingly. 

“And here we are,” his dad says breaking into his thoughts and forcing Scorpius to take in his surroundings. 

The smoke from the train fills the station, cloaking the entire scene in a surreal haze that perfectly fits with his mood. Not ten yards in the distance, the Potters are approaching rapidly, Lily in the front, walking with a newly developed grace, Ginny and Harry directly behind looking slightly more frazzled than usual, and in the back --

“Albus,” he whispers to himself, and then too loudly. “Hi Albus!”

“Hey,” Albus mumbles awkwardly once the two families are within an appropriate speaking distance. 

The weather is surprisingly warm for September but Albus’s hoodie is pulled securely over his messy, dark curls just the same. It only takes Scorpius a sweep of the eyes to realise that he looks terrible -- small, diminished, in a way that Scorpius hasn’t seen him look in years and confirming what he’s been thinking for the last three weeks -- he shouldn’t have left when he did. 

They’re best mates and he knew how hard the whole experience had been for Albus, he should’ve stayed and made sure that he understood how important he still was to Scorpius. Of course, Albus had asked him to leave but then he’d also cried -- softly, as to not draw any attention to himself, but tears just the same. Scorpius should’ve stayed.

His arms twitch at his side with the need to pull Albus into a hug, but he’s not sure if it would be welcome right now. He bites down on the inside of his cheek, hard enough to create imperfections in the smooth texture and then rubs his tongue over the roughness. If he could only feel the same way as Albus, he knows everything would be better -- everything would be perfect. Unfortunately for both of them, it has always been Rose.

“Potter. Better late than never.” Scorpius’s father drawls, earning him a scowl from Harry and a smirk from Ginny.

“We’re not late, Draco.” Harry says as Ginny meets his father in a familiar hug. 

“Lily,” his dad says, bowing his head respectfully before turning to Albus. “Albus! I bought a new chess set and I thought perhaps that you might enjoy a game over the Christmas holidays? Help me break it in?”

“Oh,” Albus says quietly, his tone making it clear he thought something would have changed in their relationship. “I haven’t been practicing much actually. I’m not sure I’d be any competition.”

His dad looks from Albus to Scorpius and then back again, as if finally putting the last pieces of a puzzle together. “Right,” he concludes, not unkindly, “well it’s not as if you’re ever that much competition anyway. I still enjoy our matches.”

Albus doesn’t rise to the bait, only smiling weakly and Scorpius is desperate to have him offer up a bit more of himself. A sarcastic comment, an eye roll,  _ anything _ . “Can you believe this is it? Our last year?” Scorpius tries, his own voice sounding alien to his ears.

“I know. Finally.” Albus replies, apathetically, as if reading from a script that he finds incredibly boring.

Scorpius bounces on his heels, his eyes raking over the group, desperately searching for something to say. “I brought sweets!” he finally shouts. And there it is,  _ that  _ earns him a real smile. It’s small, but it’s there and holds the promise of a chance to move past this mess that they've found themselves in. 

Yes, Scorpius definitely should have stayed. 

“Hugo!” Lily yells, waving excitedly. 

Scorpius follows her line of sight and sees the Granger-Weasleys appearing in the distance. Hugo waves back before changing his gait to a jog to meet up with his cousin. Rose is only a meter behind, checking her school bag for what Scorpius is sure is the tenth time that morning. She is always lecturing about how preparedness leads to success and will never allow herself to be caught unaware. The sight would usually cause his heart to swell with happiness but today he can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut. How many times has a similar sight caused him to turn to Albus and gush about Rose’s beauty? How painful has that been for Albus?

Scorpius turns back to his friend and sees his concerns reflected there. Albus’s hands are pushed deep inside of his pocket, the small moment of normalcy that Scorpius had glimpsed a moment ago closed off by hunched shoulders and a lack of eye contact. He’s about to engage Albus in another mundane topic when Rose and her parents join the group.

“Hi Scorpius!” Rose smiles at his side. “Did you finish the summer reading for Advanced Transfiguration?”

Scorpius opens his mouth to respond when Hermione interrupts. “Scorpius!” she says, happily. “I heard you made Head Boy. Congratulations!” 

“Head Boy?” Albus inquires immediately, his eyes accusing, and Scorpius curses himself internally for never having finished the letter that he’d started so many times. How could he talk about something as inconsequential as a badge when there was so much left unsaid between them. 

He bites his lip guiltily and nods, desperate to have Albus alone to explain himself.

“Congrats,” Albus mumbles.

“So did you?” Rose continues as if Scorpius’s life isn’t imploding in front of everyone and although it makes him feel slightly guilty, he really wishes she’d stop speaking, “finish the reading, I mean?”

He nods as a blast from the train alerts them that the moment is upon them -- the beginning of the end -- seven years to the moment that he started this journey with Albus. He can only pray that this isn’t the beginning of the end of their friendship too. 

His breathing is starting to come out more raggedly and he’s sure everyone is beginning to notice. He watches as Albus turns away from him, whispering something quietly to his father who looks up at Ginny, a whole conversation unfolding silently in merely seconds. He faintly remembers his own parents doing the same when he was very young. The memory twists his gut painfully and piles on to the uncomfortable emotions building up inside of him. He blinks his eyes a few times willing himself not to cry. 

“No, love.” Ginny finally whispers in a clear attempt to keep this conversation private.

“Fine.” Albus sighs defeatedly, grabbing his trunk and turning on his heels to make his way to the train. “See you at Christmas.” He yells over his shoulder.

Harry looks pleadingly at Ginny and Scorpius watches, desperately trying to make sense of it all.

“Harry, it's his seventh year. He has to.”

And what does that mean? Has to what? Has to go? Does Albus not want to go back to Hogwarts? Scorpius can feel his father’s eyes on him, a question behind his lips, but a quick shake of Scorpius’s head stops it from passing. He can’t do this right now and he’s immensely thankful that his father knows it.

“I love you, Scorpius,” Draco whispers for his ears only. “You write to me if you need to talk, okay?”

Scorpius nods too many times in rapid succession, breathing hard through his nose. “I’ll see you at Christmas, Dad.” He squeaks out before hugging his father briefly and making his way to the train.

Rose is waiting for him outside the train door, looking as beautiful and as distracted as always. She offers him a genuine smile as he approaches the coaches. They still have separate social circles but after a few years sharing advanced classes, Scorpius counts her as a close friend. “Hey. Do you think we can meet outside the Prefects’ cabin about ten minutes before the meeting?” she asks. “I know we outlined most of it in our letters but I just want to verify the Head Boy/Head Girl duties before we present them to the assembled Prefects.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

“Great.” She makes a move to leave, hesitates, and then turns back to face him. “You’re good?” she asks.

He only nods which seems to satisfy her as she quickly climbs aboard, presumably focused on meeting up with her Gryffindor friends. 

Before following her, he lets out a long, shaky breath, calming his nerves, and then finally climbs aboard. He quickly makes his way down the tight hallway, avoiding nervous first years and glancing into various compartments as he passes. The snogging couple in the third compartment, he could have done without, but since he’s not officially on duty yet he’s able to let them be. It takes him only a few minutes to find Albus and, when he does, he hesitates just outside the door-- Albus is completely closed-off -- curled against the window, muggle earbuds already firmly in place, staring unseeingly. 

“There you are,” he says in what he hopes is a light-hearted way, when he enters the compartment.

Albus’s lips lift in a poor imitation of a smile, before returning his eyes to the window.

Scorpius stares at him for a moment before tending to his school trunk -- fastening it securely into the overhead storage, even triple checking it to buy himself some time. When he’s finished, he stands there stupidly, not knowing how to proceed, as the train lurches into motion and causes him to shift his weight to stop from falling. Briefly, he considers leaving Albus to himself, but he shakes the thought away almost immediately. He won’t make that mistake again -- Albus is too important. Instead, he stalks purposefully up to Albus and reaches out, pulling one of his ear buds away from his right ear.

He startles, his gaze snapping to Scorpius and staring at him as if he’s lost his mind. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t write to you about Head Boy,” he blurts out, feeling as if he could cry.

Albus sighs, removing the second ear bud and holding his hand out in a silent request for its mate. Scorpius complies and waits as Albus puts them away -- giving him time to gather his thoughts.

“It’s fine,” Albus finally settles on but Scorpius is still sure that it isn’t.

“I tried to write you so many times. I really did,” he rambles, “I started at least four letters. I just wasn’t sure how much of the other stuff you’d want me to mention. And it was too important and I just didn’t want to get it wrong, you know?”

Albus stiffens at the mention of ‘other stuff,’ waiting a beat before responding. “It’s fine. Can we just leave it?” he asks, quietly.

“Oh right. Yeah, if that’s what you want.” Scorpius says, sitting down awkwardly, suddenly not sure what to do with his hands. He settles for fidgeting with his pinky finger for a moment before tucking his hands under his legs, sure that Albus is already reading his every small movement as discomfort with  _ him _ . “So, you told your parents?” he asks, for lack of anything better to say.

Albus scratches at the back of his neck and nods. “Yep. James and Lily know too.” he laughs humourlessly, “I mean, I’m already a Slytherin who hates Quidditch and is bad at magic, why not throw gay at them too?”

Scorpius swallows uncomfortably, finding his finger again and giving it a few pulls until the bone lets out a soft cracking sound. He wants to ask if the Potters know about what happened with the two of them but he’s pretty sure that he already knows the answer. Albus is vulnerable in a way right now that screams a broken heart. “How did they handle it?” he asks instead.

“Good. They’re all being really supportive. Even Dad -- especially Dad, actually.” He smiles sadly.

“That’s good.”

He watches as Albus nods in a way that says nothing is good right now, and the urge to make everything right again claws its way back up his throat.

“Albus, listen -”

“Please, can we not do this?” He pleads with a tired sigh. “I’m really embarrassed.”

“No!” Scorpius responds, too loudly. “Albus, you shouldn’t be-”

“Stop,” Albus interrupts. “Please. Just stop. I just want to pretend it didn’t happen,” he breathes, leaning his elbows onto his knees and raking his hands through his curls, leaving them to fall in the effortlessly tousled way that they do so often. 

When he speaks again, it’s little more than a whisper but the words are laced with such raw conviction that Scorpius hangs on every syllable. “I can’t be here without you, okay? And I know that’s pathetic but you’re my only real friend, Scorpius.” Albus looks at him properly for the first time in nineteen days. The bright green of his eyes magnified by unshed tears. “If we can’t be normal then I don’t know if I can be here. This year will be too much.”

“Albie --” Scorpius starts but he doesn’t know how to finish. ‘Albie, I love you?’ ‘Albie I hate that I hurt you?’ But all these words, they’re inadequate. He swallows and tries again. “Of course we can be normal, Albus. You’re my best mate. That will  _ never  _ change. Okay?”

Albus nods, blinking back tears and Scorpius does his best to pretend he doesn’t notice. When he’s gained his composure, he offers Scorpius a smile, it’s small but so genuine -- just like Albus. They smile warmly at each other for a moment, Scorpius’s heart in his throat, before a sudden knock startles them both, pulling their attentions to the door. Rose is standing directly outside the window looking murderous and pointing angrily at her wrist.

“Oh no,” Scorpius stands abruptly, knocking Albus’s school bag off of the bench, the contents spilling across the floor. “Time’s run away with me. I have to go,” he says, even as he stoops to pick up the scattered belongings.

“Right,” Albus says, squatting down to help with the mess and then when Scorpius doesn’t move to leave, “go ahead.”

“Right,” Scorpius agrees, standing and silently wishing that he could stay. “When I get back, we’ll tuck into those sweets?”

“Sounds good,” Albus smiles and then Scorpius is off.

Rose doesn’t even allow the door to shut fully behind him before laying into him about his tardiness. “Do you or do you not remember me asking you to meet me twenty minutes before the start of the meeting?”

“Right. Sorry.” He says, trying and failing to regain his composure. “Although I do think you said ten minutes,” Rose’s face is livid and Scorpius backtracks. “But that’s irrelevant, obviously. Sorry. Albus and I just got caught up and I forgot to check the time. I’m really sorry, Rose. I promise I’ll stay on top of things from here on out.”

She softens slightly at his chaotic demeanor. “It’s fine,” she says with an eye roll, “we still have ten minutes anyway.” She glances at the compartment door behind him and lowers her voice . “Is he still not doing well?” 

“What?” he asks, stupidly. In truth, he’s entirely taken aback that Rose is aware of Albus’s struggles. She’s not self-absorbed per-say, although Albus has confidently used that descriptor for her on more than one occasion. No, Scorpius prefers to think of her as focused -- constantly thinking ten steps ahead of everyone else. So yes, sometimes it’s fair to say that she doesn’t have the attention left for other people’s personal issues, but Scorpius understands her, and he still thinks she’s magnificent. 

Mum told me that he was desperate not to come back to school this year,” she says, moving purposefully down the corridor without checking to see that Socprius is following -- he is.

He has been assuming that Albus wanted to stay home since overhearing Harry’s words, but the confirmation of his suspicions hits like a punch to his gut and stops him in his tracks. “Oh,” he breathes.

Rose continues, entirely unaware of his sudden discomfort. “I’m not sure what the big deal is anyway? It’s not like he’s the only Hogwarts student to come out of the closet.”

“What?” he asks, jogging to catch up. “He told you that?”

“That he’s gay?” she asks with a laugh. “I mean, not exactly a surprise, is it? But no, he didn’t tell me. Lily said that he didn’t want to do any big coming out, so he said that she could just let everyone know as she sees fit.” 

“Right.”

“Oh shit,” she exclaims, turning to face him, and Scorpius is surprised to see that she looks properly concerned. “Did you not know?”

“No, I mean, yeah I did -” he says trailing off. He doesn’t know why he says it in a way that leaves the thought open but Rose pounces on the weakness immediately.

“But?” she prompts.

“But,” he starts, filling his cheeks with air and blowing them out before continuing, “it just got a bit complicated.”

Rose smirks like the cat who got the cream. “Details,” she demands.

Scorpius hesitates, glancing around the corridor to make sure there is no one within earshot. He knows Albus wouldn’t necessarily want anyone knowing about what happened between them. And he doesn’t want to break that trust but this is  _ Rose _ . 

Rose, who already knows he is gay and who also happens to be Albus’s cousin! Despite what Albus might think sometimes, she only wants the best for him. Plus she’s one of Scorpius’s closest friends. Decision made, he takes a deep breath before speaking. “Albus kissed me a few weeks ago. He sort of likes me.”

“Seriously?” she gasps, punctuating her point with a hard smack to his shoulder. That’s wonderful.”

“What?” Scorpius asks incredulously, rubbing the sting out of his arm. “How is that wonderful?”

“Oh,” she responds, the broad smile slipping from her lips. “You don’t like him?”

“No! Obviously not, Rose.” he says, motioning between the two of them, briefly wondering if he’d imagined the eleven and a half times he’d asked her on a date over the past few years. 

“Sorry,” she says, still looking entirely confounded. “Oh, poor Albus.”

A sigh escapes Scorpius’s lips as his eyes find his feet. The guilt he experiences won’t subside even though Albus’s feelings aren’t within his control. It reminds him vaguely of the way he felt when his mom was sick -- withering away before his very eyes and all because she had decided to have  _ him _ . He knows no one blames him, but in reality, she would have had more time if Scorpius didn’t exist. And even though he knew this, that he was part of the cause of her pain, there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. 

“It’s not your fault, of course,” Rose says, lifting an awkward hand to pat his shoulder once. “We’ll think of a plan to fix this.” She rubs the back of a finger across her lips a few times, deep in thought. “Knowing Albus, he’s probably assuming that you’re disgusted by him, possibly vaguely homophobic, which you’re not, correct?”

“No, Rose,” he hisses, “I am not homophobic.” 

She snorts a laugh at his annoyance. “Well that’s good because lucky for you, I think I have the perfect plan!”

He can’t help but flash a soppy grin at his brilliant friend. “And what plan is that?” he asks.

“You can help him find a boyfriend!”

The smile drops immediately from Scorpius’s face, his stomach rolling uncomfortably at the thought. “What?” he deadpans.

“Yes!” She shouts, rubbing her hands together excitedly. “This will work perfectly. That way he sees that you’re supportive while developing an interest in someone else, which should help him get over you. It’ll be perfect. And there are plenty of wizards who prefer other wizards at Hogwarts -- Mattie Kettletoff, Forest Osborne, Nico Bathgate. We’ll set him up. Actually he’ll probably be more likely to go if we’re there too. Double date then.”

Scorpius can feel his eyes expand at the mention of a date, Rose must see it too because she immediately flashes him an unimpressed look. “Don’t get your hopes up. Just as friends.” 

The entire idea of Albus going on a date with a random guy for the sole purpose of developing stronger feelings for said random guy than Scorpius, well, it’s a terrible idea. A terrible idea that makes Scorpius feel more than a little bit ill, but if it could potentially make Albus feel more himself -- well, it’s worth a try, isn’t it? “Okay,” he finally says, “let’s do it.” 

“Great,” Rose says, grabbing the handle of a compartment door. "Now that that’s settled, we’re officially late for our meeting, so you’ll just have to follow my lead in there.”

  
  


The next few weeks pass in a haze of fresh syllabi and lengthy discussions on the importance of their NEWTs. The heavy load of advanced classes that Scorpius is taking are all very interesting but when combined with this year’s Head Boy duties, it means he doesn’t have much time left for anything else. Mainly, Albus.

Scorpius can see the strain of the distance reflected in Albus -- the way he’s clearly fighting his instincts to fold in on himself and push everyone away. Scorpius has seen it before, mostly with Harry but sometimes with James too. Often people mistakenly see his behaviour as a need for space, but Scorpius has come to realise over the years that it’s actually the opposite -- a silent request to fight for him on those days when he doesn’t feel like he’s worth it. And Scorpius will fight for him every time, in much the same way that he knows Albus will force him to eat when he’s been studying too long, or center his mind when his obsessive focus on a task is a bit less fun than usual. As long as the other is around, they’ll never be alone.

So Scorpius makes the time. He rearranges meetings and switches study sessions to open up free periods where there previously were none, because Albus is worth it. The effort seems to do the trick too because things have been good between them, perhaps not quite normal, but luckily nothing like it had been on the first awful day back. Still, Scorpius is desperate to repair the rest of their relationship so, when Albus meets him in the library in a particularly chipper mood following his Care for Magical Creatures lesson, he finally musters up the courage to mention the dating idea.

“Absolutely not,” Albus says emphatically, dropping his bag and falling dramatically into one of the overstuffed chairs, his arm moving to shield his eyes. 

“Why not?” Scorpius whines, leaning against the chair arm. “Rose says that she knows at least four guys who would be a good match.”

Albus removes his arm and shoots Scorpius a glare so fierce that most would assume a hex is to follow. Scorpius is entirely unaffected. Albus is always somewhat prickly -- his glares don’t scare Scorpius though -- not when he’s recently weathered a silence, those moments when he knows Albus is being unkind to himself. He’ll take the glares any day.

“Just because these guys are gay, doesn’t mean they’ll want anything to do with me, and it certainly doesn’t mean that we’d be a good match. You can go straight back and tell Rosie to mind her own business.”

“Come on,” Scorpius says with a sigh, “how would you know that if you don’t even meet them?”

“Because I know Hogwarts students and most of them are utter gits ,” Albus spits, sitting up and pulling his knees to his chest. 

“Please?” Scorpius asks, sitting next to him. “Rose and I will come with you.”

“Like a double date?” he asks quietly, picking at a thread in the cushion.

“No,” Scorpius laughs, “Rose was very clear. We’re just there for moral support. Why don’t you give it a try? It’ll be fun and if it's really terrible we can all just laugh about it afterwards.”

Albus sighs defeatedly. He goes quiet for a moment before asking, “and why do you want me to do this?” 

Scorpius shrugs, taking the time to choose his words carefully. “I don’t know. I feel like you’ve been lonely lately and I just thought you might like to have someone. You deserve that, you know?”

Albus drops his head back against the chair, his eyes finding the ceiling. From this angle, Scorpius can see his favourite splattering of freckles, the ones that trail across Albus’s collar bone. He imagines running the tip of his finger across them, connecting them into funny shapes. He’s just found a spot where he can make a wonky fish when Albus speaks and startles him out of his mind.

“Fine,” he concedes.

“Really?” He asks excitedly, lifting onto his knees.

“Yes,” Albus says, “but I’m not going to have any fun.”

“Heard and completely understood,” Scorpius smiles.

  
  


That’s how they find themselves standing outside of the castle on a chilly Saturday, in October, awaiting Rose and the mystery man. She’d completely refused to disclose the identity of the suitor, saying that she didn’t want Albus pre-judging the bloke before he’d even had a chance to speak. Rose wouldn’t even tell Scorpius though, assuming that he’d break down and confess to Albus at the first pressure. Which, Scorpius supposes, is entirely fair on both accounts. 

Scorpius nervously rubs the palms of his hands up and down his trousers, as he keeps watch for Rose.

“Would you stop!” Albus hisses. “You’re making me anxious.”

“Sorry,” he says, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, “it’s just that I’ve never been on a date before.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t a date?” Albus mumbles, scuffing his shoe against the concrete of the staircase.

“Oh, with Rose?” Scorpius says. “No, it’s not. But it’s your date and I’m going to be on it, so it’s kind of like my first date.” 

Albus shoots him a pointed glare. “Yeah, except that you’re not the one who is going to make an utter fool of yourself. Well, you might, but it won’t matter because you’re not trying to impress anyone. Rose already knows you’re a prat.”

“You don’t even know if this guy is worth impressing anyway.” Scorpius replies with a reassuring smile. “Oh here they are!” he announces spotting Rose in the distance with, “Mattie Kettletoff.”

“What?” Albus says, his head whipping around, panic evident in his voice and Scorpius can’t really blame him. Mattie Kettletoff is the wildly popular keeper for Hufflepuff. He’s in his 6th year but Scorpius has heard girls, from first year to seventh, discussing his body and dirty blonde hair, and lamenting the boy’s homosexuality. He can’t understand why Rose would bring a  _ quidditch player _ on a date with  _ Albus _ , though.

Albus looks poised to run but there isn’t time, it’s barely a heartbeat before they’ve all met at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Albus,” Rose says with a cheeky smile, “this is Mattie. Mattie this is Albus.”

“Hey Albus,” Mattie says with a warm, perfect smile that makes Albus blush. Scorpius hates him already.

“Scorpius,” Scorpius says, extending his hand and trying to exude as much Malfoy dignity as possible. Rose and Albus both shoot him odd looks over Mattie’s shoulder but he ignores them.

Mattie shakes his hand and smiles. “Hey Scorpius. It’s nice to meet you. Congrats on making Head Boy.”

“Oh,” Scorpius says, ‘right. Thanks.”

“So should we go?” Rose asks, ushering the group down the path towards Hogsmeade. 

Before Albus makes it more than a few paces, Scorpius catches his arm and whispers, “just let me know if you want to leave.”

“Okay,” he replies before walking ahead to the waiting Mattie.

“Shall we?” Rose asks dramatically offering her arm and allowing a bit of distance to develop between the two couples before following. “Didn’t I tell you I had everything under control?” She whispers, clearly pleased with herself.

“What are you talking about?” Scorpius asks. “You brought a quidditch player on a date with Albus.”

“A very sexy quidditch player,” she says, motioning to Mattie as if that answers everything.

“Albus wants more than a hot body,” Scorpius replies matter-of-factly, his voice short.

As if on cue, Albus laughs at something Mattie has said. Not an appeasing chuckle, or a pretentious scoff, but a full body laugh that has him throwing his head back. 

Rose flashes him a smug smile. “How about a hot body and a great sense of humour?” 

Scorpius doesn’t even dignify her statement with a response, choosing instead to grit his teeth, and stare ahead.

“Where to first?” Albus turns to ask, his full smile only flickering for a moment when his eyes land upon the spot where Scorpius and Rose are joined. Scorpius waits a beat before subtly slipping his arm out of her grasp, she doesn’t seem to mind.

“Butterbeers?” Mattie asks with a lopsided grin and a cheesy dance that would look entirely ridiculous on anyone else.

Albus rolls his eyes but the effect is somewhat ruined by the soft-hearted smile plastered across his face. “Sounds good to me.” 

Once they’re seated in a booth in the back of the Three Broomsticks, butterbeers in hand, the conversation unfolds easily. With Mattie being the type of conversationalist who can easily fill the silences, there is none of the awkwardness Scorpius might have expected. Instead Albus actually looks like he’s enjoying himself. 

There’s even some talk about quidditch but, strangely, Albus doesn’t seem to mind. Scorpius supposes he’s gotten used to it after dealing with his family all these years. 

“So Rose tells me you really don’t like quidditch?” Mattie asks skeptically.

“I really don’t like quidditch,” Albus confirms. 

“Well,” Mattie says, stretching back in his seat in a way that showcases the width of his arm muscles. “I bet I can get you to like it.” 

“Ha,” Albus scoffs, “I’m not sure why you think you can accomplish what, at least, 30 family members, many of whom are war heroes, couldn’t accomplish.” 

“Hmm, but it wasn’t exactly to your benefit that any of them could sit a broom as well as I can,” he says with a teasing wink.

The effect of his words is immediate -- Scorpius chokes on his sip of butterbeer, sputtering it out onto the table, Rose cat calls, and Albus goes an adorable shade of red straight to the tips of his ears. 

“Did I embarrass you?” Mattie laughs.

“Hmm?” Albus says, taking a sip of his drink. “No, no.”

Mattie smirks at him, leaning in close to his ear. “Liar,” he whispers, causing something that sounds remarkably like a giggle to escape Albus’s throat. 

And that’s when Scorpius realises -- Albus is  _ flirting _ .  _ His  _ Albus. Flirting. With Mattie bloody Kettletoff.

“On that note,” Rose breaks in, manhandling Scorpius out of the booth, “we have some studying to do so we’re going to leave you boys to it.” 

Scorpius follows her dumbly, not able to come up with a reasonable excuse to stay. As soon as they exit the pub doorway , Scorpius rounds on her. “Are you sure we should leave him?”

“What are you talking about?” Rose asks. “ Seriously, that could not have gone any better.”

“You don’t think Mattie seemed a little - “

“A little what?”

“I don’t know,” Scorpius admits, “predatory?”

“Scorpius, Scorpius, Scorpius,” Rose sighs, pulling him back towards the castle, “what am I going to do with you?” 

  
  


It’s a few hours later when Albus finally returns to the dorm, his hair flat from his beanie and his cheeks windburned and pink.. 

“So?” Scorpius asks, throwing his book to the side.

“So?” Albus mimics.

Scorpius gives him his best unimpressed look. “Seriously?” 

Albus shrugs looking suddenly uneasy, he mumbles something unintelligible.

“What was that?”

“I said he kissed me,” he whispers, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously.

Scorpius’s mouth drops open as he searches for something to say. It’s suddenly very hard to think, his brain stuttering out at that simple statement. Completely against his wishes, images of what they could have looked like flood his mind. Albus and Mattie holding hands. Albus and Mattie laughing together. Albus and Mattie  _ kissing _ . Albus and Mattie. He does his best to swallow around the lump that has formed in the back of his throat. What is wrong with him? Maybe he hasn’t been getting enough sleep lately.

“Oh,” he finally says, in a daze, “that’s great. So it went well then?”

Albus only shrugs, pulling off his hoodie and throwing it to join the rest of his dirty clothes sitting in a pile, on his trunk. “He says he’s not really looking for a relationship,” he says, looking everywhere but at Scorpius.

“But he kissed you?” Scorpius asks, confused.

“Right,” Albus nods, “he’s fine with doing more of  _ that _ . He doesn’t want a boyfriend, he just wants to hook up.”

“Oh,” Scorpius says, doing his best to keep his voice neutral even though at the moment he’s feeling entirely murderous. “And is that...something you’re interested in?”

“Hooking up? Yes, Scorpius, I’m not planning to be a monk,” he says sarcastically. “But I’m not sure I want all my firsts to be with someone who doesn’t actually want to be with me. You know?”

He sighs and sits on his bed facing Scorpius. “Is that stupid?” he asks sincerely. “Should I just take what I can get?”

And that shakes Scorpius out of his stupor -- the idea that Albus Potter thinks he should have to settle. It’s ludicrous. “That’s not stupid at all,” he says, looking directly into Albus’s eyes. “You deserve more than that. You deserve everything, Albus.”

Albus swallows hard and looks away suddenly. “Well I’m going to turn in early. That was a lot of social for me,” he says with a chuckle, crawling underneath the covers. 

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Scorpius says, retrieving his books and climbing into his own bed.

“Oh,” Albus whispers after a few minutes, “and thanks for making me do that. At least I got my first proper kiss out of it.”

“Yeah, that’s really great,” Scorpius lies, relieved that there will be no more kisses. 

  
  
  


To her credit, when Rose hears that Mattie is only interested in sex, she’s properly angry and apologetic. In retrospect, Scorpius can't say the entire date was a waste either, Albus's mood has turned around considerably since that day -- things feel almost normal between them. Rose's guilt is evident though, and maybe that’s why it only takes two weeks before she manages to set up another date, this time with a Gryffindor named Nico. 

Albus and Scorpius both know Nico fairly well, since he’s a seventh year who runs in the same social circle as Rose. He’s pleasant -- funny, tall, with light brown skin and amber eyes -- Scorpius supposes he could be considered rather attractive. He's a bit more effeminate than Mattie, but he’s not going to pretend to know all the types of guys that Albus may like.

So far, the date is going great even if it doesn’t feel very much like a date. There are no sexual innuendos or giggling, just four friends shopping in Hogsmeade, one of whom happens to talk -- a lot. Albus can barely get a word in, but he doesn’t seem to mind, choosing to spend most of his time at Scorpius’s side instead of fighting for the attention. Nico and Rosie are both equally content, if their arms full of shopping bags are any indication

“Rosie!” Nico shouts excitedly, skipping over to a rack of muggle clothing inside  Gladrags Wizardwear . “Look at this plum jumper. This colour would look divine on you.”

Albus nudges Scorpius in the ribs with his elbow. “I think this hat would look divine on you,” he whispers, picking up a lime green, vintage witches’ hat and placing it onto Scorpius’s head.

“What do you think?” Scorpius mocks, doing his best modeling impression. 

Albus snorts a laugh. “I think your ancestors are rolling over in their graves right now.”

“Albus,” Rose says suddenly, “Nico just had the best idea. We should buy you new clothes!”

Albus furrows his brow. “And why, exactly, would I want to do that?”

“We just thought you could stand to have your wardrobe refreshed,” Nico cuts in.

“Albus looks fine,” Scorpius defends, surprising even himself with the frigid tone to his words.

“Fine?” Nico asks with a laugh. “Oh no, Albus here is hot. This hair,” he says, punctuating his point by ruffling Albus’s hair, “with those eyes and then the freckles! H. O. T. Hot!”

Albus looks at his feet as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Nico gasps, “Eeee, and he  _ blushes.  _ Godric, you’re pretty. You just dress like you don't think it and I know we can do better. So,” he starts, seriously, throwing an arm around Albus’s shoulders, “can Rosie and I give you a makeover?”

“I don’t think so,” Albus replies with a tight smile.

“Oh come on!” Nico shouts, shaking Albus’s shoulders lightly.”Please? We both know that there’s no spark between us, but maybe we can salvage the day and have a little fun in the process?”

Albus sighs, screwing his mouth to one side and then the other. He looks from Rose to Nico, and then back again, before shocking everyone and saying, “oh, why the hell not?”

Three hours later and Scorpius is so bored, lying on his bed in his dorm, that he wishes Albus could have thought of even one reason ‘why not.’ It has been almost an hour since he was kicked out of the bathroom for suggesting that Albus could wear a bow tie, and for the life of him, he can’t figure out what is taking them so long. He flops back dramatically onto his pillow, picking up his discarded Runes textbook and mindlessly flips to his required reading. Muffled voices drift out from behind the bathroom door where Rose and Nico are torturing Albus. For the most part, they’re barely audible, but occasionally a more spirited statement will break its way through, making it challenging to concentrate.

“I’m not wearing makeup!”

“Quit being dramatic, eyeliner barely even counts as makeup.”

“Quit fidgeting!”

“Oh my God! Look at that arse!”

“I said stay still!”

Eventually, Scorpius is able to block them out as he focuses on translating a particularly interesting text on the effects of moon phases on the magical properties of wood. He faintly registers the door opening but ignores it, in favor of scribbling hasty notes on the parchment at his side. 

“Jacket or no jacket?” he hears Nico ask.

“I can’t decide,” Rose’s voice, that time. “Scorpius, what do you think?” 

“Huh?” he asks, looking up from his reading and what he sees leaves him breathless.

Albus looks -- well, he looks like himself but different somehow. Still effortlessly attractive but now in a more put together way. His black, ripped jeans cling to his body like a second skin, and the forest green t-shirt he wears not only hugs his frame in a way that compliments his figure, but it brings out his eyes in a startling fashion. His eyes that Scorpius can see now are ringed in a thin line of dark charcoal. 

Albus looks  _ good _ .

He realises with a jolt of self-consciousness that he’s been staring for entirely too long. “Um, I don’t know,” he mumbles. “I think they would both look great.”

“Straight guys are useless,” Nico says with a chuckle, holding the jean jacket out for Albus to shrug into. 

The effect of the makeover is less devastating once the jacket is in place, the denim hiding most of Albus’s lithe frame.

“No jacket,” Scorpius says confidently, earning him an appreciative smile from Nico. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Nico replies. “So what do we think? Sexy, right?”

Scorpius swallows hard, not sure if sexy is an adjective he should be using for his best mate. “It’s good,” he says quietly.

“You look amazing, Albus,” Rose gushes.

“Albus?” Nico asks.

“I hate the makeup,” Albus deadpans, “but I guess the rest is alright.”

“Alright, he says,” Nico sighs, throwing his hands up. “And the makeup wouldn’t be for day to day. It’s just for a night out, when you want a little drama.”

“Oh shit,” Rose says suddenly, looking at the clock on the wall, and checking it against her watch. “Is that seriously the time? Nico, we have to get out of here.”

“So rule abiding,” Nico laughs. “Who is going to catch you? Our Head Girl and Head Boy are literally right here.” 

Rose ignores the jibe, pushing him towards the door. “Bye guys! See you tomorrow.”

Still being manhandled, Nico grabs the door frame before he’s wrenched through it, swinging to face them. “Albus, Scorpius, this has actually been really fun. We should definitely all hang out again sometime!” He yells with a giggle as Rose shuts the door, behind them, with a bang.

“Well, that was interesting,” Albus says, grabbing the back of the shirt and pulling it over his head. His nudity makes Scorpius blush in a way that it never has before and he pointedly averts his eyes.

“Nico’s nice,” Scorpius insists, as a means of distraction.

“Yeah,” Albus agrees, “doesn’t shut up though.”

Scorpius laughs and looks back to Albus, relieved to see that he is now wearing his old pajama pants and stained, plain white t-shirt. Albus scrubs at his eyes with his finger, trying and failing to remove the eye liner. “This stuff is never coming off,” he laments.

“It looks good though,” Scorpius says, unthinkingly. “I mean, you always look good but Nico was right. Tonight you looked - “

“Sexy?” Albus asks with a laugh. “Yep, that’s me. We all know how I exude sexual confidence.”

“You know what I mean,” Scorpius mumbles.

“I do,” Albus says, crawling into bed, “and thanks for saying it.” Scorpius watches as he punches his pillow until he’s finally satisfied with the shape and lays his head down. “Don’t stay up too late reading.”

“I won’t,” he replies with a smile. “Good night, Albus.” 

“Night.”

  
  


_ Scorpius is naked. He’s not entirely sure how he got that way -- standing in the middle of the dorm without even a shred of clothes on -- but it’s okay. Comfortable even, because Albus is with him, just the two of them in this empty dorm. Albus with his hair falling attractively into his eyes, smiling that smile -- the private one that is reserved only for Scorpius. The one that Scorpius can never help but return.  _

_ Albus is naked too, he realises with a start. Naked and beautiful and Scorpius loves him so much it hurts. Scorpius’s eyes find the cluster of freckles that he is always tracing with his eyes, only this time he doesn’t hesitate. He sweeps a single finger in figure eights across Albus’s collar bone, smiling as Albus fails to repress a shiver. Scorpius’s mind is leaving that comfortable existence, slipping into something different, something hungry. He silently wonders what other ways he could make Albus tremble, but before he’s able to experiment, Albus is dropping to his knees. Those big, beautiful green eyes looking up at Scorpius. His tongue darting out to moisten his lips and Godric, Scorpius wants his mouth on him -- so he asks. He doesn’t stutter or fidget, his request passing his lips with a steady sureness. Albus smiles a soft smile even as fire ignites behind his eyes -- he complies without hesitation. And Scorpius struggles to imagine a world in which he wouldn’t want this. _

“Scorpius. Scorpius!”

“What?” Scorpius wakes with a start, unsure for a moment where or when he is. He was  _ naked _ .  _ Albus  _ was naked. Albus was --

“Hey,” Albus says softly, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I think you were just having a nightmare.”

A nightmare? Scorpius breathes rapidly, his mind desperately trying to make sense over what just happened. It certainly didn’t feel like a nightmare, especially considering the way that his body is still reacting. 

“Man, it must have been a bad one,” Albus chuckles.

He lifts his other hand to stroke down Scorpius’s cheek. A soft, comforting gesture that they’ve shared countless times after nightmares that have plagued them through the years. Only this time, with the images in his head and the response from his body, it feels illicit.

He pulls sharply away from Albus’s reach.

“Oh,” Albus whispers, freezing for a moment before letting his hands fall to his sides. He looks so small and lost standing in the middle of the dark dorm room, wearing nothing but his pajama pants. 

“Sorry,” Scorpius squeaks but he can’t put much feeling behind it, not when his mind is so disoriented.

“My fault,” Albus says, retreating to his bed. 

And Scorpius knows he should stop him -- he should grab him by the arm and explain that Albus didn’t make him feel weird, that the dream just left him rattled -- but he can’t get out of this bloody bed because his brain is muddled and he’s  _ hard  _ and it’s all because he had a  _ sex dream _ about his best mate. His best mate who likes him and whose heart he broke. 

He scrubs his hands roughly down his face, silently hating himself. He looks to Albus’s bed where the curtains have been shut tightly, blocking out the world -- blocking out Scorpius. He sighs, throwing back his covers, and stalking into the bathroom. Once he gets his problem handled, maybe he can go and make a proper apology to Albus. He enters his favourite shower stall, turning on the taps and hoping that his roommates don’t give him too much guff for a middle of the night shower, come morning. 

The water is cooler than he likes it but that’s the point, this shower isn’t for comfort. He steps under the spray, opening his mouth and taking a quick drink. He braces his hands against the wall and attempts to think unsexy thoughts, pustules and old lady feet and a library organised solely alphabetically, but no matter where his mind goes, it always comes back to -- Albus’s lips, Albus’s hands, Albus’s nipples, Albus’s laugh --  _ Albus _ . Before he’s fully realised what’s happening, the shower has turned against him, the steady rhythm of the water beating against his skin, sending ripples of pleasure through his stomach. He tries desperately not to reach down, to not do what he desperately wants to, not to  _ these  _ thoughts, anyway.

He tries and he fails.

  
  


He never gets the chance to explain himself to Albus, instead slinking back to his bed in shame that night. The next morning, Albus wakes clearly intent upon pretending it never happened and Scorpius lets him, desperately wanting everything to go back to normal. Regrettably, the universe has other plans though, because over the next few weeks all those dirty, bad, wrong thoughts continue to plague him.

Now, in addition to thoughts brought on by the increasingly frequent dreams, it seems the most mundane things can bring about confusing images in Scorpius's head. Albus eating sugar quills, Albus grumpy and sleep-rumpled in the morning, Albus making that face he does when he's trying not to laugh, Albus bobbing his head lightly to unheard music in the common room. It's like a dam has been opened and the flood waters are drowning him -- only the flood waters are the ever present instinct to walk over and snog the living daylights out of his best mate. It's exhausting and he just wishes he knew what it all means. 

Of course, he knows what it  _ might _ mean. It might mean that he's an absolute berk who could've avoided a lot of mutual heartache had he just kissed Albus back all those weeks ago. Unfortunately, it doesn't feel that simple -- not when he wonders why it took him so long for those feelings to surface, or why he's never wanked to images of a guy before, or whenever he thinks of Rose. 

All these years he's imagined their future together. A power couple, both of them rising through the ranks at the Ministry with their 2.5 kids, and sensible yet stylish house on the outskirts of London. They'd go to Sunday brunch at the Burrow and Scorpius would belong, like  _ really  _ belong to Albus's family. And Albus would be there all Albus-y and wonderful and Scorpius would never have to be away from him for long. But lately, he's started to realise that Albus  _ would _ be there, but probably with his  _ husband, _ and that thought makes Scorpius's stomach roll uncomfortably with something that he's started to name as jealousy. 

He just wishes he could talk to Albus about it, to come clean about everything he's been feeling over the last few months, but he knows deep down that that wouldn't be fair to Albus. Not when Scorpius isn't 100% sure how he feels. 

So he is going through the motions of playing the supportive, platonic best mate, even when his mind and body are in a constant state of panic. Especially today, because after over a month without any set ups, they're on their way to a last minute date with a 6th year, Ravenclaw -- Clarence Juniper. And what's worse, Rose is insisting on spending the entire day revising which means that this date will be entirely unsupervised. 

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Scorpius asks for the third time since they left the castle. 

“Scorpius,” Albus snaps, “Rose isn’t even coming. You don’t think it would be weird if you went on my date with me?”

“I could be your emotional support Scorpius,” he offers, as he narrowly misses twisting his ankle on a patch of ice.

Albus attempts a scowl but the corners of his lips twitch, betraying his amusement. Scorpius only has to quirk a brow at him and he dissolves into giggles. He looks so beautiful like that, laughing with snowflakes scattered through his hair like crystal sprinkles on an ice cream cone -- Scorpius doesn’t want to say goodbye. “You’re still not coming,” he laughs, giving Scorpius a friendly shove as he starts in the direction of the Three Broomsticks.

“Fine,” Scorpius concedes, ”but what am I supposed to do with myself?” he yells after him.

“You’ll figure it out. I’ll see you later!” he shouts, walking backwards for a moment before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Scorpius watches the place where he vanished for a moment, his chest heavy. He briefly considers running after him but dismisses the idea just as quickly. Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets and stalks off in the opposite direction hoping some sweets can cheer him up.

If Scorpius is grading himself on his ability to distract himself in Hogsmeade while Albus is on a date, he’s sure he’s earned a Dreadful. He tries his best to entertain himself, he really does, it’s not his fault that everything reminds him of Albus. In Honeydukes, he instinctively loads his bag up with all of Albus’s favourite sweets, blushing when he realises that he may have gone overboard with the sugar quills. In  Gladrags Wizardwear, their muggle wear rack still displays the soft, green t-shirt that Albus wore for the makeover. Only now, the design is available in multiple colours -- he has Albus’s size, in the dark blue and heather grey, purchased and tucked into his bag before he even realises what he’s done. Around  every corner are memories of Hogsmeade trips over the years, causing his chest to ache with longing. He’s  just resigned himself to skulking back to the Slytherin dungeons when he quite literally bumps into Nico.

“Scorpius!” he shouts with a laugh, steadying Scorpius with a graceful hand. “Where is your other half?”

“Oh hello,” he replies, too loudly, rearranging his bags into a more comfortable position. “He’s on a date.”

“A date?” Nico gasps, with a faux air of scandal. “With who? No one as handsome as me, I’m sure?”

“Of course not,” he says with a distracted smile. “Um, he’s a Ravenclaw. Clarence?”

Nico’s face drops immediately into something bitter. 

“What?” Scorpius asks, suddenly alarmed.

“Nothing,” Nico says, shaking his head to clear the thoughts. “It’s just that Clarence is a complete tit.” 

“How so?” Scorpius questions, his attention to the conversation increasing exponentially.

“I dated him,” Nico sneers, as if that should explain it all.

“Then why would Rose --”

“She didn’t know,” Nico assures him,” it’s not something that I advertise.”

“Nico, let’s go!” Someone yells impatiently from somewhere behind him. 

“Just trust me, that hat sorted him wrong. He’s a snake all the way,” he pauses awkwardly, “no offense.”

“None taken.”

“Nico!” another frustrated voice shouts.

“I’m coming!” Nico grumbles, through gritted teeth. “I’ll catch you later, Scorpius. If I don’t get a chance to talk to you, have a good break.”

Scorpius stands between the paths to the Three Broomsticks and the castle, weighing his options -- the decision he’s facing at the crossroads feeling weightier than the simple choice of how to spend the next twenty minutes. He imagines curling up on his four poster with a book that matches his dramatic mood. Maybe that muggle novel that he read last year -- Wuthering Heights, but then he thinks of Albus. His wonderful, beautiful best mate, Albus, trapped on a date with someone unkind. When faced with those choices, there is no question. He nods to himself and moves to find his friend. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to look very hard. Outside of the Three Broomsticks, on a dilapidated bench, sits Albus -- and he’s alone. Scorpius waits a beat to check for Clarence, before advancing towards him, but movement in his peripheral causes him to hesitate. A guy meanders up to Albus’s side and smiles warmly down at him. It’s clear they’re talking but Scorpius is too far out of ear shot to make out what is being said, but after far less time than Scoprius would have ever expected, he sits at Albus’s side. 

The guy is vaguely familiar, but Scorpius is sure he would have remembered that shock of bright green hair. He’s maybe a few years older than them, tall and lean and wearing a mix of wizard and muggle clothes, all in very alternative fashion.

Scorpius watches, unsure what keeps him glued to the spot, Albus is fine -- he sees that now. Watching this interaction is a gross invasion of privacy; he should leave. No matter how many times he tries to convince himself, though, his feet only take him closer -- not near enough to be noticed, but just within listening distance. This close Scorpius can see the anxious twitch of Albus’s jaw, the defeated slump of his shoulders -- his date definitely didn’t go well, then.

“So why did you go out with him if you didn’t want to?” he hears the guy say.

Albus shrugs, looking away and shoving his hands deep inside his hoodie pocket. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” the guy says with a smile, and when he turns his head, Scorpius can see a small, silver ring nestled against his right nostril. 

“My best mate,” Albus finally declares, letting his head drop against the side of the building. And Scorpius stands stock-still, knowing that he shouldn’t be hearing this but desperate to know what Albus will say next. “He’s been uncomfortable since I came out.”

“Fuck him if he’s homophobic,” the guy declares with a shocking burst of conviction that Scorpius really can’t blame him for. He has completely blundered everything if Albus thinks he’s uncomfortable with  _ him _ .

“No.” Albus says in a way that leaves no room for argument and Scorpius is sure he doesn’t deserve the defense. “I get it. I sort of...kissed him.”

“Ahhh, got it,” the guy says with a nod, letting his head fall back next to Albus’s. “I’ve fallen for my share of straight guys before. It’s rough.” 

The way Albus’s eyes snap to his face, it’s clear that he’s surprised by that confession -- surprised and a little bit delighted. The guy looks back at him and smirks as if he knows that he’s just turned Albus’s shitty day around. When Albus returns the smile, Scorpius takes a step backwards, ready to flee. He’s unsure if he can stomach watching their flirtation unfold, not when right now he’s wishing he was in the mans’ place. So he doesn’t. He turns on his heels and breaks into a brisk walk, not stopping until he’s back on his bed.

  
  


It’s nearly three hours later when Albus finally returns from his date. Scorpius knows that he has no rights to the emotion but he feels uncharacteristically livid about his tardiness. Albus stops at the foot of his bed, clearly waiting for some sort of greeting. When none is offered, he breaks the silence. “Hey. How was your day?”

“Clearly not as good as yours,” Scorpius huffs.

Albus laughs bitterly. “You must be joking. Clarence is a complete wanker,” he sighs, sitting down at the end of Scorpius’s bed. “He asked if I’d be able to set up a meeting between him and my dad.”

“No he didn’t!” Scorpius exclaims with a gasp, leaning forward and throwing his book to the side, his previous surliness completely forgotten. 

“Yep,” Albus says, the harsh ‘p’ sound lingering in the air. 

Scorpius makes a sound of disgust. “What a wanker!” he yells, earning a shush from one of his roommates.

Albus looks around, as if he’s just become aware of the other boys in the room, before crawling fully into Scorpius’s bed and pulling the curtains shut. He throws up a haphazard silencing spell that Scorpius isn’t entirely sure will be effective, but he seems to be satisfied.

“I need to talk to you,” he whispers, suddenly serious.

Scorpius’s tries to swallow but his mouth is suddenly very dry. He silently wonders if he’ll be able to act convincingly surprised about the green haired guy, who came to Albus’s rescue today, and whom Scorpius certainly should have no knowledge of. Albus takes a big breath, looking not at all unlike he did before confessing his feelings to Scorpius, and the memory sends a shock of longing through Scorpius’s chest. 

“I don’t want to be set up on anymore dates,” Albus states.

Scropius furrows his brow, waiting for the part two -- that he’s fallen madly in love with a green-haired man who has a nose ring and is much more interesting and cooler than Scorpius will ever be. “Oh, is that all?” he mutters, when Albus doesn’t elaborate. 

“No,” Albus says, swallowing hard, causing Scorpius’s heartbeat to triple in speed. “Listen, I'm trying really hard to keep things normal between us, but If we're going to keep being friends --”

“If?” Scorpius squeaks, feeling as though the bottom of his stomach has just fallen out, as tears spring to his eyes.

“Yes, Scorpius,  _ if _ ,” Albus replies, looking like every word pains him to say, “ because you have to get used to the fact that I'm always going to be gay --”

“I do!” Scorpius screeches, his hands flailing. “I am!”

Albus ignores him. “And I'm not an easy person so I’m probably always going to be single too.”

Scorpius opens his mouth to offer a rebuke, but Albus lifts his hand to silence him. “And neither of those things means I'm going to throw myself at you,” he finishes, looking Scorpius straight in the eye.

“Albus, no --” 

“No?” Albus laughs, although there’s no humour there. “I'm not an idiot Scorpius. I couldn't even touch you the other night without you flinching away.” 

Scorpius opens his mouth and then closes it again. He wants to explain himself but he knows he can’t tell him, not until he’s completely sure. “I'm so sorry. I promise that's not it. I don’t care that you’re gay,” he cries.

“Then why don't you ever hug me anymore?” Albus whispers, looking anywhere but at Scorpius.

Scorpius’s heart breaks and he launches his body forward, startling Albus by enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. Albus doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms around his waist and returning the hug just as fiercely. Scorpius can’t help it, he buries his face in Albus’s curls, letting the tears fall and reveling in the smell of him -- feeling that same warmth blossoming in his chest as he does after coming in from an afternoon spent playing in the snow, to hot cocoa and a roaring fire. Safe, warm, and loved. 

“I wasn't sure you'd want me to.” he finally whispers against Albus’s hair. “I didn't know if it would make things harder on you.”

“Us not being normal is what's making things harder,” he admits and Scorpius only hugs him tighter. 

After what feels like days, they pull apart and it’s clear that Albus has been just as affected, scrubbing his hands roughly down his face with a sigh. 

“Come on,” Scorpius says, sitting back and fluffing the pillow next to him, “I bought you some sweets today and I was just about to start a new book. I can read it to you until you fall asleep.”

Albus smiles warmly but Scorpius can still see the strain there in his eyes. He crawls up the bed, awkwardly tucking himself beneath the covers with the curtains still firmly closed. “What’s the book about?”

“Dragons,” Scorpius says, his eyes never leaving Albus’s face. 

Albus smirks, “of course it is.” Always exhausted following anything involving emotions, or people really, he doesn’t request his sweets but instead burrows down beneath the duvet and closes his eyes. Scorpius settles in at his side and cracks open the book to the first chapter. 

“Chapter One.”

As soon as Scorpius feels the telltale twitch that announces Albus has slipped into a deep slumber, he closes the book and sets in on his nightstand. He flips to his side, pulls the covers firmly over his shoulders, and watches. He watches and silently wishes he could have a redo of the last six months where he didn’t get absolutely everything wrong with their relationship. 

Albus’s lips lift slightly in sleep and Scorpius can’t help but return the imitation smile. He has always loved how peaceful Albus looks when he sleeps -- younger somehow when unburdened by the stressors that cause his face to pinch unhappily. Something stirs inside Scorpius's chest and he can’t resist reaching out and pushing a stray hair away from Albus’s forehead. He allows his hand to linger there, brushing lightly against his cheek bone, and Albus lets out a small, contented exhale that is the cutest thing Scorpius has ever heard.

And that’s when it hits him -- the depth of his feelings fully washing over him with an intensity so strong that Scorpius thinks he might choke on it. He has never felt this way about  _ anyone  _ else and the thought that he would ever want someone else feels borderline laughable now. His feelings for Rose will never compare to how much he loves the boy sleeping in front of him. And with sudden clarity, he realises that he doesn’t have to know why it took him so long to name his feelings, or why it’s only Albus and not other men, who makes his palms sweaty and heart rate increase, or why he confused admiration for love with Rose for so long.

All that matters is that these feelings are here and that they’re real -- possibly the realest thing he’s ever felt. 

He’s in love with Albus Potter. 

Briefly, Scorpius considers shaking him awake and confessing everything, but the comfortable set of Albus’s shoulders and his deep, shallow breathing stop him -- he deserves a rest. They can talk everything out in the morning.

  
  


When he wakes, Albus is gone, which isn’t just strange, it’s entirely unheard of. He throws the covers back and opens the curtains, finding Albus’s bed empty. He calls his name quietly to no answer. He’s just about to hop out of bed and start a proper search, when Albus steps out from the bathroom, naked from the chest up, his waist wrapped in a light green towel. 

“What’s happened?” Scorpius asks frantically.

“What?” Albus asks, walking over to his trunk. “Nothing happened, I just needed a shower.” Scorpius does his best to focus but it’s challenging considering the way the water skirts down Albus’s chest and disappears beneath the towel.

“Why are you awake?” he manages, licking his lips.

“Oh, fuck off,” Albus laughs, throwing a shirt at Scorpius’s head. Scorpius is so distracted, he doesn’t even think to dodge it, allowing it to ricochet off of his face and land, sadly, at his feet.

“I’m serious.”

Albus pulls the forest green t-shirt over his head and Scorpius belatedly remembers that he still needs to give him the shirts he bought yesterday. He considers grabbing them now when Albus says quietly, “I have a date.”

“A date?” Scorpius chokes out. 

“Yeah,” Albus states, grabbing a pair of black trousers and pants from his trunk. 

“Not with Clarence?” he stutters, completely horrified.

“No. Jesus, no,” Albus assures him. “I actually kind of met someone.”

And that’s right, in his excitement Scorpius completely forgot about the mystery man, outside of the Three Broomsticks, yesterday. He turns around and screws his eyes shut, desperately wishing he had woken Albus up last night after his revelation. He can’t tell him he’s in love with him while he’s on his way to a date with another guy. No, he’ll just wait until Albus gets back and tell him then.

“Theo,” Albus continues, completely unaware of Scorpius’s internal conflict. “He’s a tattoo artist down in Hogsmeade. He’s cool.”

“Oh, right. So you’re going on a date? With a tattoo artist? During the morning?”

Albus misinterprets his meaning, chuckling slightly. “He asked if we could get brunch before he opens the shop.”

“That makes sense,” Scorpius manages, nodding too many times. 

When Scorpius turns around, Albus is fully dressed and he looks as beautiful as ever. “You look perfect,” he whispers with a sad smile.

Albus looks taken aback but he still returns the smile. “Thanks! I’ll see you at lunch, okay?’

“Bye.”

  
  
  


Scorpius is sulking. He’s supposed to be using this time in the library to get a head start on his essay, but every time he attempts to read a passage, his mind flits back to images of Albus on his date -- his date with  _ Theo _ .  _ What a stupid name _ , he thinks bitterly. 

“Alright,” Rose begins, shutting her book and leaning forward on her elbows. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Scorpius lies, his eyes returning to his essay.

Rose scoffs. “If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be moping around like a toddler who wasn’t allowed yogurt before dinner, so cut the crap and tell me what’s wrong. Hopefully we can fix it quickly and actually get some work done today.”

He reaches down, pulling on his pinky finger repeatedly until it cracks. “I think I’m in love with Albus,” he mumbles.

Rose stares at him, her eyes dropping into one, long blink, before saying, “come again?”

“I think I’m in love -”

“I heard you!” she shouts, reaching across the table and punching him in the upper arm. “You’re such a prat! Why did we bother sending him on all those dates if you liked him?”

Scorpius flails his hands helplessly. “I didn’t know I liked him, Rose.”

“What does that mean?” she hisses. “How could you not know you liked him?”

“I don’t know,” Scorpius squeals frantically, “he’s always just been there. My best mate, Albus, who is wonderful, and handsome, and makes me smile all the time. I didn’t realise it was different than what everyone else was feeling for their best mates.”

Rose’s expression softens slightly. “You’re still a prat, but this is good. I think you two will be happy, you know? ”

Scorpius opens his mouth to respond when an uncharacteristically bubbly Albus appears at their table. “Hey!” he greets unexpectedly, startling them both so much that Rose kicks a chair, causing it to tumble loudly onto its side. 

Albus’s face changes from a huge smile to a grimace as Madame Pinch shushes them angrily. “Sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s fine,” Scorpius says, pulling out the chair next to him and motioning for Albus to sit. “How was your date?”

“Date?” Rose questions, without her usual tact. When she meets Scorpius’s eyes, it’s as if he can see the understanding wash over her. “You went on another date with Clarence?

“No,” Albus assures her, “Clarence is a complete arsehole - thanks for that by the way. This was with a guy named Theo.”

“How was Clarence an arsehole?” she asks, looking properly distressed. 

“Harry Potter chaser,” Scorpius answers and Rose visibly deflates.

“I thought I was getting so good at detecting them,” she pouts and Scorpius reaches across the table to pat her hand comfortingly.

He turns back to Albus. “So was Theo an arsehole too?” he asks hopefully.

“Not at all,” Albus replies with a beaming smile. “It was really great. I like him and I think he really likes me too. But anyway, I need to work on my Magical Creatures essay. Will you two still be here if I go grab my books?”

When they both nod, Albus leaps from the table and hurries towards the door. 

“You still need to talk to him,” Rose hisses as soon as he is out of earshot.

Scorpius doesn’t respond, looking back to his book, and rereading the same passage repeatedly in an attempt to halt the impending tears. It works eventually, but even then, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s ruined everything -- that he’s too late

  
  


With the heavy load of essays assigned to them leading up to their winter break, time for Albus to meet up with Theo is non-existent. Scorpius can only hope that absence does not, in fact, make the heart grow fonder because he’s planning to tell Albus how he feels over the holiday. He has it all planned out, what he’ll say, what he’ll wear, where they’ll be sitting in the Manor -- it’ll be perfect, because Albus  _ deserves  _ perfect.

Today is the last night before they board the train in the morning and if Scorpius is being honest, he can’t wait to be home. Between the heavy workload and emotional revelations, this term has entirely exhausted him. Just a few more corridors to finish his rounds and he can fall into bed, dreaming of the peaceful Christmas to come. 

He’s just started making a mental list of everything he wants to eat over break when a banging sound distracts him. He looks up and down the empty corridor and is just about to admit that he’d imagined it when it happens again, a loud bang and this time there is no question of the source. Narrowing his eyes, he walks up the statue of G unhilda of Gorsemoor, knowing full well that some of the more adventurous students have caught on to Hogwarts’s many secret passages. He leans forward to listen, when a black blur tumbles out of the entrance and lands at his feet.

“Albus?” he asks, looking at the body in front of him.

Albus blinks twice and then lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Dumbledore, it’s you!” he stands, brushing some dust off of his jumper.

“What are you doing?” Scorpius asks, looking again to ensure the coast is clear.

“I went to see Theo,” Albus states, as if it means nothing.

“You left without permission ” Scorpius screeches.

“Shhh,” Albus says, clamping a hand over Scorpius’s mouth, “it’s not that big of a deal.”

Scorpius scoffs, shaking Albus’s hand away. “Well, I’m sure  _ Theo  _ didn’t think it was a big deal but I happen to think my best friend risking house points  _ and  _ his reputation to see some, stupid guy, is quite a big deal!” 

“What is your problem?” Albus spits, over articulating each word.

“You snuck out, Albus,” Scorpius hisses. “I’m Head Boy and you’re my best mate. If I don’t punish you then it’s nepotism.”

“You’re the only one who knows that I left,” Albus cries, incredulous.

“Exactly,” Scorpius shouts, an inch from his face. “I would always know that I didn’t do the right thing.”

“Are you serious right now?” Albus demands and when Scorpius only crosses his arms over his chest, Albus throws his hands up. “Fine, punish me if you need to.”

It’s only when Albus turns to leave that Scorpius realises how ridiculous he’s being. “Albus, wait,” he says reaching out and grabbing him by the forearm, causing Albus to hiss with pain. 

“Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Scorpius panics, pulling the sleeve of Albus’s shirt up and seeing a bright gold time turner, adorning his forearm that definitely wasn’t there this morning. 

A time turner. Theirs. It was  _ theirs _ , not an excuse to go on a date and flirt with a ridiculous tattoo artist with green hair. He drops Albus’s arm with little care. “You got a tattoo? You left to see some stupid guy who gave you a tattoo?”

“Why do you keep calling him stupid when you don’t even know him?”

Scorpius feels suddenly out of control like he never has before, tears prickling the corner of his eyes as his heart rate increases. He can feel Albus slipping away like water flowing through his cupped hands. He can’t lose him.

Albus is properly ranting now, the adrenaline from anger causing a light flush across his cheeks. He’s so beautiful. “I don’t know what your problem has been lately, but --”

Scorpius does the only thing he can think of, the thing he has wanted to do for months now, years really, if he’s being honest with himself. He grabs Albus on either side of his face and pulls him forward, kissing him hard on the lips. There’s a moment, a glorious moment, when Scorpius thinks that Albus is about to return the kiss before he unceremoniously pushes out of Scorpius’s grasp.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” he shouts with no regards for the time or their location, pushing Scorpius hard in the chest with both hands.

Scorpius stumbles but quickly regains his footing. “Albus - “ he starts, but then Albus is gone -- already fleeing around the far corner of the hallway.

  
  


Scorpius wakes up the next morning with the type of headache that only comes from crying yourself to sleep. He looks instinctively to Albus’s bed, unslept in as expected, only now his trunk is missing too -- he must have gone home early. He washes and prepares his belongings, eats and performs his Head Boy duties as expected, but it’s as if he’s walking through a dense fog, his mind never entirely present.

His fears are confirmed at the end of their Head Boy and Girl meeting with Professor McGonagal that morning. “Oh and make sure you update your student counts for the train. I’m sure you both know that we had a student floo home late last night.”

As they divide up the lists and secure them onto their respective clipboards, Rose stills him with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” she whispers.

He only shakes his head, gathering his things and leaving the room.

Later, after the train is loaded, their rounds finished, and counts completed, Scorpius finds an empty compartment and falls into the seat, leaning against the cool glass of the train window. He tries to distract himself -- counting the whistles and humming along to the rumble of the train engine -- but his mind keeps wondering if this is how Albus felt at the start of the year. If he hurt this much? And another part of him, the tiny voice that he hushes to make his days more manageable, just really misses his Mum right now.

When the train finally pulls onto Platform 9 ¾, students ignore repeated directions for calm, and rush to their waiting families. Scorpius disembarks, his eyes scanning until they land on the familiar shock of white hair amongst the crowd -- his dad. He’s standing with Ginny, talking in whispers. He looks a bit out of sorts, still as immaculately dressed as always, but Scorpius can see the stress there - the tense set of his shoulders, the twitch in his jaw. When they see him approach Ginny offers him a sad smile. 

“He’s okay?” he asks quietly and Ginny nods pulling him into a quick hug.

A mum’s hug. He cries softly against her fiery hair, whispering a quiet, “I’m sorry,” causing her to tighten her grip. She pulls back and holds him briefly by the shoulders.

“Everything is going to be okay,” she declares so surely that Scorpius almost believes her. “I’m not sure exactly what happened between you two, but a friendship like yours, it endures. Okay?”

“Okay,” Scorpius agrees.

“Let’s go son,” his dad says, putting a hand on his shoulder and ushering him through the maze of people. 

To his credit, his dad doesn’t ask. He stands by him on the platform, walks at his side, sits across from him at dinner, discussing whatever mundane topic that Scorpius has chosen to distract them both. When Scorpius finally musters up the courage to broach the subject, it’s late at night, and not at all what he expected -- the two of them on opposite sofas in the sitting room, books in hand. 

“I love Albus,” he blurts out suddenly.

“I know,” his dad replies, dropping his book to his lap.

“No,” Scorpius says, shaking his head, “I mean I’m in love with Albus.”

“I know that, Scorpius.”

His eyes are already filling with tears but he needs to get this last bit out. “And I hurt him,” he sobs.

“I know that too,” his dad whispers, coming to kneel in front of him. 

Some people assume that Draco Malfoy is a cold father, his aristocratic nature and challenging upbringing make him hard to truly know. Scorpius  _ does  _ know him though and he’d never refer to him as cold. He’s not unemotional as some people imply, but undramatic, not aloof but selective in his choices for close company. Still, even knowing this, Scorpius is still taken aback when his Dad reaches out and grasps Scorpius’s hands in his own. 

“Look at me, Scorpius.” And Scorpius does. “Relationships are hard, no matter the kind. Friendships, parents, romance -- it’s impossible to read another person’s mind. Even when you’re trying, you’re going to get some things wrong,  _ especially  _ when you’re so young. And, unfortunately, that means that sometimes we unintentionally hurt people we love.”

Scorpius instinctively looks at his shoes, but his father’s hand tilts his chin, forcing Scorpius’s eyes back to his own. “But the real test --” he says quietly, “the part that dictates what kind of man you are, Scorpius -- it is what you’re going to do next.”

After that, the floodgates burst open and they talk. They  _ really  _ talk, like they haven’t since Scorpius was a little boy. They talk about everything that happened since Albus kissed Scorpius on the day that changed everything. They talk about sexuality and how it’s not always as clear as people think. They talk about his beautiful mum and how hard it is to go through difficult times without her by their sides. And then about what falling in love with her was like for his dad, the ways in which it was similar and different to everything with Albus. 

They talk until Scorpius’s eyelids are heavy and his body weak, but for the first time in months, his chest feels light. He knows what he has to do now -- he has to  _ try _ . But, without a doubt, first he has to sleep. He says goodnight to his father and makes his way upstairs, losing consciousness the second his head hits the pillow.

In the morning, they wake and have a quiet breakfast together. “Are you still planning to go over?” his father asks skeptically.

“Yes,” Scorpius says with a deep breath.

His father lets out a soft whistle. “I’ll tell you, you’re a braver man than me. That’s a lot of Weasleys.”

Scorpius laughs softly, wiping his face with his napkin, before making his way to the floo. He grabs a handful of waiting powder and steps inside. 

“No matter if he comes back as your mate or a boyfriend, do try to get Albus to come back with you. He owes me a chess match.” his dad says with a wink.

Scorpius smiles widely before throwing the floo powder and yelling, “The Burrow.”

No one even notices when he first floos into the family room, such is the chaos of the Weasley family’s Sunday brunches. Lily is shouting to Hugo about some unknown injustice and beating him over the head with a sandal as Dominique and Albus’s uncle George watch and laugh. James and Freddie are huddled together over what looks to be a quidditch supply magazine as Lucy sings some unknown ballad to a doting Grampa Weasley. As usual, Albus is nowhere to be seen. 

“Scorpius?” someone -- Gran Weasley, it turns out, asks and just like that, every eye in the room turns towards him.

“Hi!” he says with an awkward wave. “You always said that I could just pop over whenever so -- POP.” He sings the last word, moving his hands ridiculously, and regrets it immediately, but Gran Weasley only smiles warmly at him.   
  


“Absolutely,” she says vehemently, “we’re thrilled to have you, Scorpius. Come in, come in!” 

Scorpius follows her into the kitchen where it’s a bit less chaotic, the walls lined with various adults, mostly redheads, deep in conversation. The ones who notice, greet him happily as he enters. “Do you want some eggs, love?”

“No thank you,” he smiles awkwardly. “I just want - I just need Albus.” Everyone is looking at him in a way that makes him feel as though he’s stripped bare -- it’s embarrassing, but he doesn’t want to hide these feelings anymore. 

“Albus!” Someone yells in a voice that is definitely not meant for the indoors. “ALBUS!”

“What?” The reply is shouted angrily, but it’s still Albus and Scorpius feels suddenly feverish.

“YOU HAVE COMPANY!” James continues, sending a wink Scorpius’s way that earns him a blush.

Scorpius can hear Albus sigh as he stalks down the steps, clearly expecting a prank or simply another relative. When he rounds the corner, his eyes fall on Scorpius and he stops dead in his tracks.

“Hi!” Scorpius greets him cheerily. “I know you weren’t expecting me. Sorry to just show up.”

“Hey,” Albus says, stuffing his hands into his trouser pockets, his eyes darting around the room.

Scorpius follows his lead and looks from side to side, seeing that no one is attempting to give them even the least bit of privacy. “Do you think we could -” 

“Yeah,” Albus finishes, “we can go upstairs.” He turns and starts up the steps. Scorpius moves to follow but his way is blocked by an angry looking Dominique.

“You’re sure you’re good, Albie?” she asks, her eyes never leaving Scorpius and crossing her arms across her chest in a way that doesn’t make him feel entirely safe. 

Scorpius can see Albus smile over her shoulder. “All good, Dom.” 

She steps out of his path but not before flashing Scorpius the international sign for ‘I’ll be watching you.’ 

Albus leads him into a small, musty bedroom at the end of the hall, and closes the door behind them. It’s still decorated in faded quidditch posters and has two dusty beds with mismatched comforters, but there’s no saying who the room used to belong to. Albus sits on the bed closest to the door and Scorpius mirrors his position on the opposite bed. Now that they’re finally alone, he is suddenly unsure where to start.

“I -”

“You don't have to say anything,” Albus interrupts, rubbing the back of his neck. “I promise we're fine. We're  _ always  _ fine. I just left because -” he sighs, “because I needed time to cool off so I didn't say anything I'd regret.”

“I know,” Scorpius says, leaning towards him. “And I didn’t floo directly to yours yesterday because I wanted to make sure I had my head on straight before talking to you.”

Albus nods.

“I'm sorry I kissed you, Albus,” he whispers.

“Don’t be,” Albus chuckles, “now we’re even.”

“No, you don’t understand -” Scorpius starts but Albus doesn’t let him finish.

“Scorpius, I know, okay? You were confused. And it was just a stupid mistake. It’s fine.”

“No!” Scorpius shouts, leaping to his feet. “It might have been stupid, but it wasn’t a mistake. I'm sorry I kissed you but only because it was while we were mad at each other and when you were sort of seeing someone else. I'm not sorry that an actual kiss happened because I really like you, Albus.”

Albus opens and closes his mouth a few times in a poor imitation of a fish. “I’m not seeing Theo,” he finally mumbles, “that was only our second date, we haven’t even kissed.”

“Okay,” Scorpius breathes, relieved, “well, good. That's really good to hear.” 

Albus swallows hard, standing up and crossing his arms. “I don’t think that’s how you actually feel though.”

“What?” Scorpius asks, more than a little indignant that Albus thinks he can understand Scorpius’s emotions.  _ Scorpius  _ has barely even been able to do that, as of late. 

Albus comes to stand in front of him, looking directly into Scorpius’s eyes -- the striking green doing funny things to his heart. “I’m sure it was hard seeing me with other people but I promise that no one will ever replace you, Scorpius. It doesn’t matter who I’m sleeping with, I don’t see anyone else ever being as important to me as you.”

“Right,” Scorpius states, entirely confused now. “I mean, that’s great but did you not hear me? I like you.  _ Like  _ like you, Albus.”

“I’m sure it may seem like that --”

“ALBUS, I’VE BEEN WANKING TO THOUGHTS OF YOU FOR MONTHS!” Scorpius screams and before he knows what has happened, Albus’s hand is firmly over his mouth.

“Where the fuck do you think you are?” Albus hisses, and Scorpius can hear them now. At least two soft snickers from somewhere outside of the door.

“Sorry,” Scorpius grimaces when Albus removes his hand and takes a step back, looking a bit pink around the ears. They stare at each other for a moment, Albus’s messy curls and terrible posture, and Scorpius knows that he can’t hold back anymore. “Albus, I've been so blind. You know how I fixate on things so much that I don’t always see what’s right in front of me. I see you now, though.” 

He takes a deep breath, moving purposefully into Albus’s personal space.

“I’m in love with you, Albus.”

This close, Scorpius can see the flecks of amber in his eyes, the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows, the wetness on his lips. 

“And I understand if you’re over me or --”

But Scorpius isn’t able to finish his thought, because his mouth is suddenly otherwise occupied. This kiss, it isn’t like the other ones. There’s no guilt or shame, or question of whether they both want it, just Albus’s warm mouth and wicked tongue, his hands clinging tightly to Scorpius’s waist. They finally pull back for air, but just a hair's breadth away, as if neither of them can stand to break apart. Albus is staring at him like Scorpius is the most precious thing he’s ever seen -- and it’s so convincing that he almost believes him. He caresses the side of Albus’s face and then traces them down the freckles across his collar bone, delighting when Albus lets out a soft giggle. 

“Tickles,” he whispers. And then they’re both laughing, embracing and cackling just like they have always done when they fall into mischief together. Scorpius can't help but imagine all the exciting new types of mischief that they'll discover in the coming weeks. 

They hold onto each other as their breathing returns to normal, still smiling and red cheeked, but the mood is starting to shift. 

“I’m in love with you too,” Albus whispers.

Another giggle threatens to bubble out of Scorpius but he manages to contain it. He kisses the tip of Albus’s nose and gazes into his eyes and there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind that he's ready. Ready for the next chapter, for all the lasts and firsts that come with growing up. Ready to spend the rest of his life trying to make Albus happy. 

He’s sure he’s up to the challenge.


End file.
